


Red Is The Devil’s Color, And Everyone Here Is A Sinner

by PeterPiperPickedAPeckOfPickledPeppers



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bodily Fluids, Body Horror, Gen, Heroes to Villains, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mild Gore, No Romance, Shapeshifting, Sleep Deprivation, Spoilers, Villainous Headcanons, Watching Someone Sleep, Weapons of Mass Destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterPiperPickedAPeckOfPickledPeppers/pseuds/PeterPiperPickedAPeckOfPickledPeppers
Summary: Flug is sleep-deprived, and we get a look as how these days usually play out.Today, however, is not the usual.
Relationships: 5.0.5 & Black Hat (Villainous), 5.0.5 & Dr. Flug (Villainous), Black Hat & Dr. Flug (Villainous)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Red Is The Devil’s Color, And Everyone Here Is A Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya guys! I’ve been getting back into the Villainous fandom and decided to try my hand at writing in it. I have some headcanons of how Black Hat is off camera, so don’t mind me if he’s a bit OOC. 
> 
> I also am aware that this is a little fast-paced, but I wasn’t exactly sure how to make it slower. If you guys have any suggestions or criticism, I would be glad to see it in the comments. If you enjoyed, I’d like to ask you to kudos or comment! 
> 
> (I’d like to mention that this is my first time writing body horror and gore, and it was meant to be vague in order for me to allow the reader to imagine what the horror looked like. I milked the poetry part, but not the description part. I also marked this explicit just in case if it is too gory for mature.)
> 
> Trigger warnings: guns, smoke, blood, an implied plane crash, the wild ramblings of a mad man trying to justify something bad, and body horror. 
> 
> So if those are one of your triggers, I recommend that you please leave. There’s a reason that this is explicit.

Flug was utterly exhausted. 

Based on the well-being of his body, he assumed a few days passed since the last time he slept or had eaten a full meal. He was unsure; the last few days were a blur of coffee, bathroom breaks, caffeine pills for when he ran out of coffee, and whatever 5.0.5 handed to him. The poor thing could only watch as Flug shoved his gift for working so hard, a flower, down his throat. After that, 5.0.5 promptly burst into tears and scrambled out of the lab.

Flug spent a day to calm 5.0.5 down.

Now, as Flug sat slumped in his chair, he stared at the contraption while brewing in his disbelief. After almost probably four days, of pure planning and drafting and tinkering and testing and more planning, he had completed his assignment through pure perseverance. He was almost hysterical, expecting for it to blow up right then and there, but it remained. The VHS Glitched Combustion Causing Shooter (or VHSGCCS, as he had been calling it in his head) didn’t explode or collapse into itself, and Flug just couldn’t believe it. 

His hands were trembling, cramping up as he twiddled his thumbs. He continued repeating the motion, because he was uncertain if he could stay conscious without it--without the pain. He had to stay awake even if it _destroyed_ him, otherwise there would be… _worse_ consequences. Specifically, the Black Hat kind. It was much simpler to stay awake and bear the burden for just a few more hours, than to suffer for days on end.

Although, getting tortured for days on end sounded pretty good in exchange for sleep.

“FLUG!”

Ah. That was his time to shine.

Flug heaved his body up, dragging his feet across the maroon carpet in the hallway and up the stairs the whole journey to Black Hat’s office. He couldn’t speed up to a sprint, and he was fine with that. He didn’t think he could even jog without keeling over, or fall down the stairs as a result of his inability to watch his step. A waddle was fine. Black Hat could wait a few minutes. 

Flug finally made it up the stairs with a sharp wheeze, and stood in front of Black Hat’s office.

_Welp. No time like the present._

Flug knocked once, then twice on the tall ebony doors. He could hear the sound echo throughout the manor, making his heart skip only a beat. Once he was met with silence, he opened the door just a crack, before a tentacle forcefully tugged him inside.

The doors slammed close, and Flug landed on his butt with a thump.

“Where have you been?”

Flug blinked, not yet processing what had happened. “Wha?”

Black Hat’s eyes turned to slits, irises glowing a dangerous crimson. “Where,” he walked toward Flug, each step in synchronous with his words, “Have.” His tentacle was tucked back into his form. “You.” He looked down on Flug, with a sneer of his razor sharp teeth. “ _Been?”_

Flug thought over Black Hat’s question, his mind registering it after a good minute. “Oh, I didn’t, uh, feel like running.”

Black Hat glared at Flug with eyes that would be suffocating, causing Flug to tear up and tremble. Flug was trembling for a completely different reason now. “  
  


”You...didn’t _feel like running?_ ”

Flug didn’t care at this point. His mind was sluggish and just couldn’t process his fear. His body was weak, his eyes were blurry, and he craved the sweet sleep he oh-so-needed. If he died, great. If Black Hat screamed at him, snazzy. If Black Hat punished him, okay. If he got to go back to the lab to sleep, even better. Just _anything_ that would allow him to go slumber underneath his silky soft covers all snuggled up against 5.0.5.

“Ye,” Flug said.

Black Hat scanned over Flug, observing for any interference with the scientist’s psyche or consciousness, but found there was none. This was, wholeheartedly, his one and only scientist in the flesh. No gizmos, no mind-control, no drugs, no alcohol, no injuries, no diseases—nothing. Whenever Flug was within a five foot radius of Black Hat, his heart rate would speed up rapidly. However, in the present moment, Flug’s heartbeat was abnormally steady. One would even call it slow. But Flug’s scent was nothing extraordinary. Bitter and bloody. His tremble was still there too.

Black Hat stroked his chin. “Strange…”

He decided to test something.

He stretched and convulsed his skin to accommodate his new form, and melted it into a tar-like substance, before taking a form that vaguely resembled a wendigo and hardening it into rough scaly skin. He ghosted his thin fingers over the new texture of skin, the mouth on his torso smiling smugly at his new shape and adorned with acidic green drool. He decided to finally open all of his eyes to watch the hysterical look on his scientist, awaiting delightfully for his eyes to clear up. Once Flug came into sight, he focused his eyes on him and slithered towards, his malicious grin growing wider and wider. Black Hat expected Flug to faint, to cry, to beg for mercy, to scream _“Oh please Sir, Jefecito, my One and Only Savior, please don’t hurt me!”_

Instead, Flug stared blankly at Black Hat and yawned.

“What… is that even suppose--supposed to _be?_ ” Flug took one of the eldritch’s long gangly fingers in his hand, observing with disgust.

Flug dropped the finger. “Is—is this supposed to be scary or something? ‘Cause this just makes it harder for eye contact. I mean, n--no offense, Sir--but I--I don’t think that… that clients would even know where to uh…” Flug rubbed his head, fending off a headache. “To--to, _what was that thing where you put your eyes on something and--_ look! I don’t think that clients would know where to _look_.” Flug said proudly with his arms crossed.

Black Hat squinted his eyes at Flug, before transforming into his humanoid form. Then, he barreled right at Flug, clasping his neck and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Bloody Hero Association, always meddling with my business. I have been much too lenient with you all, and it seems that you thought it was appropriate to take my scientist. Well,” Black Hat squeezed Flug’s throat. “You did a very poor impression of my scientist. I rate it a two out of ten, the two for the admirable replication of him and,” Black Hat gestured toward the abandoned gun laying on the floor, “an invention to distract me with. Take note of my advice next time you attempt to infiltrate Black Hat manor, no doubt there should be a listening device on this person.”

Flug glared at the eerily grinning Black Hat.

“Are you kidding me!?” Flug managed to choke out, clawing at the hand around his throat. 

Black Hat’s grin fell. “Ah yes, now to deal with _you_. You do not deserve a quick death but if you give me the location of Dr. Flug, I might change my mind. If not, then you get a gruesome death and my doctor escapes the Hero Association, running back to me. Either way, it is a win win.”

It was, really, a win win. Flug would be here in no time, as the contract stated he was to work for Black Hat for all of eternity—or whenever Black Hat got bored. This business was something of... a project. Not a little baking soda volcano to bring to the science fair, but a... an airplane model. Flug built those in his spare time, and he always smelled of contentment afterwards. This business was something similar enough.

_“_ It—is me...!”

Oh, these interruptions of his internal _and_ external monologues were grating on his nerves. He ought to silence this Flug knock-off.

“Well, obviously not by the poor impression of him, as I _clearly_ stated earlier—have you not been listening? Do you want me to go into specifics?”

“You never killed Sunblast! Sun--” Flug wheezed. His eyes were tearing up. “Sunblast escaped!”

Black Hat released his neck. “What have you done to yourself, Flug, that allowed you to be so… so unlike _yourself?”_

Flug rubbed his neck, wincing at the bruises that were certainly going to be there. He stayed on the floor though. Black Hat watched as he snuggled his bag covered face into his very expensive carpet _that is worth more than your mother!_

“I haven’t slept for probably over two days.” Flug yawned, proving his point. “I’m probably eligible for an insanity plea if I killed someone like this.”

  
Hrm, that certainly would have been a perfect excuse, if Flug were to kill someone in that moment. In fact, he should bring someone out for Flug to kill now that he had no inhibitions or limits. The little scientist insulted _Black Hat_ of all things. He certainly did not fear death, let alone the judgements of Black Hat for his techniques of bringing death. 

Perhaps another day. Black Hat had to focus on the wellbeing of his doctor. He might have struck up a deal with Grim to allow Flug be killed by only Black Hat’s hand, but his body was still subject to its own necessities—meaning Flug still needed to eat, sleep, piss, or crap like humans did. Otherwise, he would be stuck in a loop of suffering in between death and life.

Now, who would most likely be with Flug during these few days?

_Ah, the bear._

  
**_“5.0.5!”_ **

The thumping of footsteps echoed throughout the manor, slowly getting louder until 5.0.5 appeared in the doorway. He frantically pulled the door, before realizing that it was a push not pull. He appeared in the middle of the office, where Black Hat and Flug were, saluting Black Hat for his next order, cowering with his sweat dripping down his fur.

“Since _you_ appear to be within the vicinity of Flug often, what caused him to be so unlike himself? Lacking anxiety and fear?”

The bear let out a deep sigh, the trembling ceasing for the moment.

“Aroo, roo, _rawr_ . Roo _aroo!_ Roo rawr aroo, roo!”

The eldritch being rubbed his chin. “Ah, I see.” Black Hat’s waved 5.0.5 away. “You are dismissed.”

5.0.5 lingered a bit, helping Flug up to his feet, before leaving out the door. Said doctor gave compliments and his goodbyes as thanks.

“So, it appears that you have not slept for over a _week,_ instead of two days as you said. Specifically, _ten_ days.”

Flug shrugged. “I said _over_ two days. Never said exactly how much.”

Black Hat scowled, groaning as he ripped his face off with a tear. He threw aside the flesh and grew his face back. “I cannot believe I have to _order_ you to do this, _Bloody Hell_ ,” he muttered underneath his breath. 

  
He turned to Flug. “Go to sleep, that’s an order.”

“Re-- _really?_ ”

“Yes. You will use this week to catch up on any sleep missed during the building of the… what was the name?”

“The VHSGCCS?”

“Yes, horrid name, but yes.”

With the wave of the eldritch’s hand, Flug appeared in his room. He didn’t care about the science that allowed Black Hat to transport his matter through solid without destroying him to bits in the moment, all he could think was “ _bed.”_

He tossed himself into his bed, closing the lid and speedrunning going to sleep. 

As Flug drifted into slumber, the tips of his fingers tingling—

_He looked down, finding dark crimson staining his arms. Dried crusty blood melded as part of his cuticles, staining his fingernails a permanent red. Regardless of how hard he scrubbed, scrubbing until his blood replaces it, scrubbing until his fingernails rot, his hands will forever be dyed with the blood of_ hundreds— _just as how an artist’s hands would never be rid of the ink blotches marking each and every piece of work they’ve begun._

_The scent of sulfur and burnt ash scuffled throughout the air. It invaded his nostrils, burrowing into his very depths of his lungs and eating at his skin, all whilst dancing on charred bodies._

_A survivor that made a roast pig inferior with its burns grasped his pant-leg, breathing hoarsely and roughly as if begging for mercy. He gave it that mercy, the mercy he granted hundreds of others. He twisted the neck with a simple_ snap! _A satisfying noise that gifted him with shivers running down his back. For good measure, he stomped on its head multiple times with crunches that made Flug grin. He was sure that his eyes were frenzied with mania, if anyone were to look._

_As he gulped down breaths, he gazed at his macabre beauty, his eyes glued. He understood it now. He understood why art was beautiful and why beauty was subjective. Normal people would see this and scream, but Flug would_ revel _in it. The seemingly thousands of bodies painting the beach with soot and various shades of ruby gave that beauty to him. The bright teal waves contrasted against the bodies, a well-needed balance of innocence and sins. The clear waves mixed with blood and soot as bodies were pulled in and out by the tides, tainting that innocence that many lost tonight. Red was the devil’s color, and everyone here was a sinner._

—Flug woke up with a startle, his adrenaline pumping as he broke into a sweat. None of this due to fear, but as a consequence of euphoria. When one gets too happy, the lines between the symptoms of panic and joy begin to blur, Flug learned long ago. He was just glad that he had a good dream, a reversal of the usual bad nightmare.

Flug got up, only to find that Black Hat was standing in the middle of his room.

“What are you doing up? Go back to sleep.”

“Were you watching me sleep?” Flug asked in a low voice, with sleep holding on near the edges.

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I was making sure you weren’t going to continue work against my command.”

“Mhmm.”

“I do not do this often.”

“I never said you did.”

“Good.”

Flug yawned, before finding that the bag stuck to his face. It became all soggy, rendering it useless for the time being. He couldn’t take it off either, unless he wanted to show his face to Black Hat. His heart sped up a little, now that his brain began to function properly. This was not the right time for his anxiety to kick in. 

“I have already seen your face, Dr. Flug. There is no need to be so fussy.”

Flug blinked, before pulling off his bag and tucking himself back into bed. He burrowed into his sheets, getting comfortable after the brief adrenaline rush he had earlier. He didn’t feel like dealing with how Black Hat saw his face. Perhaps he would address that to Black Hat another day.

  
“You didn’t answer my question.”

  
“I... had a dream about how we met.”

“Your favorite?”

”...Yes,” Flug yawned. “How’d you know?”

”I could smell the fondness.”

  
As Flug drifted in between the land near dream and reality, his ears picked up something he was certain was not supposed to be heard.

  
“Goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just love that it is canon that Flug ain’t the bean everyone makes his out to be. He seems all nerdy and sad in comparison with Demencia and Black Hat, and but in reality he is as gruesome and psychopathic as the next villain.
> 
> This was also a character study to get some of my ideas out, and to play a bit with PaperHat. Any comments would be appreciated, along with criticism with how I could make this better. I struggle a little with making characters have consistent personalities and pacing, so some tips and tricks would be nice.
> 
> P.S: I might make a soulmate AU with paper hat, but it’s not guaranteed. I remember a soulmate AU with singing (?) and I want to base it off that. I forgot the name of the work, but I looked all through the paperhat tags and still couldn’t find it. If anyone knows what I’m talking about, please tell me if they deleted it or not. I’d like to give the author credit.


End file.
